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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084815">The King, at Dawn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocorango/pseuds/chocorango'>chocorango</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Also rating might change i dunno, Blood, King Varian AU, Moonstone King Varian AU, ah yes my dudes, as in, the pinnacle of loving a show and stewing in its salt, watch me do what i always do, write bad fanfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:33:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocorango/pseuds/chocorango</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The princess, since she came, since she had miraculously appeared within the castle, had always won, would always win. Wasn't it so? Her cheery smile and sweet demeanor- ah, who, in truth, would win against her?<br/>And yet, and yet, the boy is the one who wins, there in Old Corona, where the rocks have taken over and things are irreversibly lost.<br/>And with the princess fallen into a deep sleep, neither awake nor alive, locked up in the highest tower, and with the King and Queen no more, the alchemist is on the throne. And there, for the princess' loved one and her best friend, therein lies the question.<br/>How do you best overthrow a King?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassandra &amp; Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider &amp; Rapunzel &amp; Varian, Cassandra &amp; Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Cassandra &amp; Varian (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider &amp; Rapunzel, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider &amp; Varian, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel, Quirin &amp; Varian (Disney), Rapunzel &amp; Varian (Disney), Rudiger &amp; Varian (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The King, at Dawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> And the sun broke through the sky, rising ever quicker, and the kingdom held its breath, waiting, waiting, clinging to their lanterns, golden as the rising sun, awaiting the royal family’s return.</p><p>The princess, since she came, since she had miraculously appeared within the castle, had always won, would always win. Her cheery smile and sweet demeanor- who, in truth, would win against her? Not one, not two, nor a hundred men could. She was that sweet, that disarming, how would an army face against her? How, in turn, would a mere child?</p><p>Ah, yes, of course- soon it would be all over, everyone knew. The wretched boy, the threat of Corona, would be thwarted, dead or alive. The King and Queen would be back, triumphant, gliding through the streets of Corona, their hands entwined with their daughter’s, their smiles worthy of celebration. The dungeons would have one more inhabitant (as if, as if, <em>in whispers it was said</em>, there weren’t enough inhabitants, <strong><em>as if</em></strong>), and the King would be content.</p><p>And so the kingdom waited, waited, ever faithful, ever trusting (or mayhaps, just a little, just a little, little scared. Just a little, yes, of course; <em>just in whispers</em>, after all, for who could forget the king’s eyes, ever watchful, by their doors, in their beds. <em>You know where my daughter is, </em>these eyes accused, <em>you’re hiding her here</em>, these eyes accused). Setting up the decorations, preparing the royal feast for the princess’ birthday, working fast, for soon victory would come, and the kingdom would greet their princess, her golden hair behind her, radiant, coming back to the kingdom, like the sun after a long, harsh winter.</p><p>And suddenly, suddenly, the fisherman upon the water heard a sound, saw a figure. Too sharp and sudden, yet who was the fisherman to judge? He turned his head to holler, to rejoice at the highest bidder of luck, at the triumphant return of <em>her royal highness, the princess</em>-</p><p>His net slid into the water, quite forgotten, quite insignificant, and his voice failed him so.</p><p>And the kingdom held its breath, and would not speak, would not talk.</p><p>And the merchants and the ladies, and the highborn and the low, watched in tandem, from their windows, as the alchemist stepped into the kingdom, tired still, thin, disheveled.</p><p>Behind him, rows and rows of creatures- cruel, metallic machines with eyes of green and jaws of steel. And his clothes were torn and tattered, and his eyes red-rimmed and sure.</p><p>He had won. The boy had won.</p><p>And the alchemist raised a hand in greeting, smiling for some unknown reason, and the people noticed, then, that his clothes had not always been so very red, so very very stained and red.</p><p>The boy stood still, his smile too wide, and his laugh was too loud, near contagious. There were tears forming in his eyes, and as he wiped them away, the kingdom was so very silent.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>,” the child said, and his voice was cold as he turned to his army, his eyes a vivid, sickly blue, “<em>Would you please do me the honor?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>                                                                                 Ø</p><p> </p><p> She was sitting near her father and mother, eating the feast made in her honor, her cup held high above her head, the sun shining far above the castle, spilling through the golden windows, the heat of it upon her head.</p><p>The people toasted, once again.</p><p><em>To the victory, to the princess! </em>and Rapunzel beamed and took her seat again, her eyes admiring the elegant, grand dining hall, her hand entwined with her fiancé’s.</p><p>The people were happy, their smiles and wide eyes sincere, their voices so sweet and happy as they talked. The food came in hoards, too much for anyone to eat, potatoes soaking in butter and salt, sweetbreads dipped in brine, a whole goose spiced with nutmeg and laid out with raisins, wheeled in by the cook- <em>would we be able to eat it all? </em>The guests all joked.</p><p>Rapunzel laughed along with all of them, her eyes glittering with delight. Her mother and father beside her were talking, Cass was tugging Eugene’s hair playfully, Eugene was screeching at her to stop, and everyone in the hall was bathed in sunlight. In her hand, the cup Rapunzel had been holding was turning warm, heated by the sun.</p><p>She studied her cup, so light and detailed, almost like a chalice, embedded with the most beautiful gems and crystals. How beautifully it caught the light, she mused, almost like it was trying to replicate it. The light reflected off it bounced back on the walls and on the tables, yellow, blue, red and gold.</p><p>Ah…not gold. Not gold light at all. A warmer colour. More like orange, but then, not quite. What was that colour’s name? How curious, that a colour should escape Rapunzel. She loved colours, loved how well they mixed with each other, how they complimented each other in turn, vivid, soft, in streaks, in flashes. Why, now that the battle was over, she would have time to paint-</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>CRASH</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>The chalice slipped from her grip, shattering into a thousand pieces.</p><p>The hall was eerily silent, and Rapunzel could hear herself breathing, panicking, as she looked at the polished marble floor. Her reflection was looking back at her, her hair braided so beautifully, flowers tucked in, her dress so intricately woven. Something, something wasn’t adding up, something-</p><p>“Sunshine?” her fiance’s voice seemed so far away, “Are you all right?”</p><p>Rapunzel exhaled sharply, and looked up. How…how very embarrassing.</p><p>Why was she acting out today, of all days? Everyone else was smiling, weren’t they? It was because of the battle, she was sure of it. It must’ve taken a toll on her. The battle against ██████ hadn’t been easy. It…it…hadn’t been easy. Against…against who had the battle been? Against what? Against…Against…</p><p>The sunlight in the hall flickered, like the flame of a candle, all of a sudden light, all of a sudden dark. Everything was blurry, unclear, and she could feel cold air, a familiar, spiteful voice-</p><p> </p><p> “Dear,” suddenly her father’s hand was on her shoulder, his face so kind, so loving, the lines of his face deep with concern, all scrunched up, “Why are you still here, sweetheart? The banquet is over, come, let’s release these lanterns for your birthday.”</p><p>Rapunzel blinked.</p><p>She was sitting in a cold, desolate hall. The tables were covered with white, soft cloth, and the moon shone in from the windows. The doors were all closed, the people all gone, and she was alone with her father.</p><p>(Hadn’t there been food in front of her only seconds ago? Hadn’t there been people all around her, their faces glowing with love and laughter? Hadn’t it been only a second? What was happening, what had happened?).</p><p> Her father smiled at her. He had dressed so lovely for the lantern festival, his usual attire traded in for a simple vest and linen shirt. Over his heart, there was a golden brooch, a simple design, shaped like the sun of Corona itself. It wasn’t perfect, not perfectly smooth nor perfectly made, its edges too unique to be normal, and Rapunzel gasped all at once, her eyes gleaming.</p><p>“Did I…did I make it? Dad, did you really…wear the brooch I made?”</p><p>The King chuckled, his eyes so open and warm, and engulfed his daughter into a hug. Everything felt like sunlight, and Rapunzel snuggled closer, happy, her eyes closed, content. (Something was wrong. Something was wrong. She was hugging him, the hall was silent, so why-why couldn’t she hear <strong>it</strong>. Why couldn’t she hear his heartbea-)</p><p>“Of course I wore your brooch,” the King leaned backwards abruptly, and chuckled, “Come now, dear, let’s not keep everyone waiting.”</p><p> “No.” Rapunzel didn’t know why she was so stubborn, so strange. Her father was so sweet, coming to check up on her in this empty hall, and she was being so difficult, so stubborn, and yet-“I…I….I’m sorry, Dad. I…was trying to remember something.”</p><p>The King grew quiet. And, seemingly mulling over her words, resolved, he scooted a chair closer to her and sat down.</p><p> “Take all the time you want, dear,” he laid his hand over his daughter’s, and Rapunzel could see how soft his eyes were.</p><p>He would wait. He would hear her out. He cared for her, ten times over.</p><p> “Oh,” Rapunzel stood up, her smile widening, “You know…it’s really all right, Dad. I…I could always remember it later! Come on, I have some lanterns to paint!”</p><p>The King stood up as well and smiled, wide and unreserved. He cleared his throat and, adjusting his crown, winked at his daughter.</p><p>“Not if I get to them first!”</p><p>The King and his daughter ran down the hallways, laughter echoing through the hallways as warmth spread to the castle. Like the sun, spilling in.</p><p>Rapunzel laughed along.</p><p>Nothing was wrong, the warmth promised.</p><p>
  <em>All was well. </em>
</p><p>                                                                                    Ø Ø</p><p> The tree hadn’t stood a chance.</p><p>Broken branches, crushed bird nests, splinters and trampled leaves.</p><p> Cassandra stood over her mess, panting. She gripped her sword, biting her lip as the shish-kebabed tree grew blurrier and blurrier.</p><p>
  <em> It’s all my fault.</em>
</p><p>She hacked at the tree again, blindly, childishly, her mouth trembling.</p><p>
  <em> I should have stopped her. </em>
</p><p>She kicked up some leaves angrily, scattering them in the clearing.</p><p>
  <em> I should’ve known.</em>
</p><p>She relented, letting her sight blur over completely.</p><p>
  <em> I should’ve….I should’ve…</em>
</p><p>Her face was warm, and she hated it. Cassandra hated crying, as a rule, hated it with a passion, and yet here she was, blubbering like a child, tears streaming down her face like it was some kind of cursed waterfall. It wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do-</p><p>She growled, and, lifting her sword, posed to strike again. As if it would make anything better. As if!-</p><p> “I mean, that <em>is</em> one helpful coping mechanism,” a dry voice muttered behind her, and she swung around, her sword still unsheathed. The person behind her yelped, dodging.</p><p>“Oh.” Slowly, the sword went down, and Cassandra sighed, defeated. “It’s you.”</p><p> “It is,” Eugene shot back, acting offended, “If you’ve <em>quite</em> finished imagining that tree is me.”</p><p>Cassandra huffed, her eyes automatically rolling, settling herself on one of the mossy rocks she had slowly grown tired of seeing.</p><p> “That tree got off too easy for it to be you,” she muttered under her breath, and could see, from the corner of her eye, the absolute bastard biting back a smile at her comment.</p><p>What a jerk, she thought fondly, as she sheathed her sword again.</p><p>Night was slowly falling, and Cassandra sighed and started gathering what remained of the defeated tree for a fire. Biting back a grimace as the tree branches brushed the terrible makeshift bandages on her hand, she occupied herself by glancing over at Eugene, who was unpacking all the food he’d been able to steal that day.</p><p> Cassandra would not in a million years say it, but in truth, she was relieved to see Eugene safe and back from his daily scouring of food and information. It had slowly but surely become a routine she abhorred, especially since she was the one who stayed behind. (<em>Why? </em>She had demanded to know, <em>Why am I the one who stays behind, Fitzherbert? </em>Eugene had rolled his eyes in response. <em>Don’t take it personal, but you’re not exactly what I would call the world’s best undercover recruit</em>.) They’ve been hiding from the new king for too long, their initial determined and angry rush of adrenaline fading. They were tired and hungry, caked with dirt, hair matted and greasy, on the run, hunting on the edge of the forest for information and food.</p><p>They, for lack of a more respectable term, were desperate.</p><p>“Well,” A hardened bread roll was suddenly tossed to Cass unceremoniously, and Eugene grinned up at her from his loot, “A treat before we get to our daily report.”</p><p>Cassandra managed to crack back a smile. The sky was darkening, the stars coming out, and Cassandra looked up at the moon shining above her, before remembering that it had been almost <em>two weeks</em>. Two weeks since the world had turned upside down. Two weeks since that horrible night, where the sky had shone, unnaturally blue, two weeks since she had been knocked down to the dirt, no longer in control.</p><p>Two weeks.</p><p>- - -</p><p> </p><p> “You should probably run, Cassie,” Varian’s voice had been eerie, ridiculously calm, as if he wasn’t wiping his hands off on his stupid apron, wiping his hands of blood that was not his, stepping over two bodies that no longer moved. </p><p>Cassandra had sneered, pain shooting up her arm, all dirt and grime and wounds. <em>Defeated,</em> a small voice had whispered in her ear.</p><p> “I won’t <em>run</em>,” she had spat at his feet, her legs threatening to collapse.</p><p>Varian had just sighed.</p><p>“You’re all so boring,” his eyes had been so wide, so angelic, and Cass had wanted to scream at him till she was hoarse or dead, “You’re all so very, very boring.”</p><p>“Cass, CASS!”</p><p>Cassandra had turned sharply, her arm suffering all the more for it. Eugene was stuck underneath the rubble of a fallen automaton, coughing, his face pallid. Definitely not one of his better looks.</p><p>
  <em>Drat.</em>
</p><p>Cassandra had booked it, running forward- and fallen flat on her face. Coughing up dirt, she glared up at the culprit.</p><p>Had the brat…had he just <em>tripped</em> her?</p><p>“I’m taking the princess,” Varian had turned on his heel, matter-of-fact, unbothered.</p><p> “Why the hell?” Cassandra had hated that dratted note in her voice, one she would always know as pleading, “<em>Why the hell, Varian</em>?”</p><p>“If I can’t have my father back,” he had turned back to glance at Cass struggling to stand again, “Why, pray tell, should you have anything at all?”</p><p>-</p><p>But the brat had lied.</p><p>Cassandra had escaped with Eugene, the alchemist’s eyes boring in their backs all the while, his automatons lifting the princess from the mess. He could’ve ordered any one of his hundreds of automatons to finish them off, cleanly, thoroughly, like he had with the King and the Queen. And yet-</p><p>Varian had let them go.</p><p>And Cassandra just wanted to make sure he lived to regret it.</p><p>                                                                  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Show in s3: Cass is Gothel's daughter &amp; the plot no longer makes sense uwu<br/>Me: *distant disappointed kazoo noises*<br/>-------<br/>RIGHT SO!<br/>This fic was heavily inspired by https://fuckfuckingfuckityfuckfuck.tumblr.com/post/190364651286/ref-sheet-for-my-take-on<br/>This person has ridiculously!!! amazing!!! art!!!! they are so!!! freaking talented!!!!and they made this whole heavenly AU &amp; needless to say, I've fallen in love and can't get up (let me make shitty puns, pls, I beg).<br/>And as usual, feel free to comment, even if it is to say my writing is equivalent to being hit over the head with the twilight books!</p><p>(And also thank you for reading, I appreciate it so! :))</p></blockquote></div></div>
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